


C/O

by Tashilover



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: AU, Foster Care, One-Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-24
Updated: 2012-12-24
Packaged: 2017-11-22 06:55:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/607061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tashilover/pseuds/Tashilover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mycroft never gave him the easy cases.</p>
            </blockquote>





	C/O

Mycroft Holmes was one scary mother fucker. Lestrade has known him long enough to say that without shaking in his boots, but it was the truth nonetheless. In this profession you needed balls of steel and Lestrade was grateful for that.

"How are your children?" Mycroft asked smoothly, sounding as if he was making pleasantries for the hell of it.

Lestrade knew it was just his personality. "They're fine. John has taken an interest in biology and Sally is really getting into those police shows. I sometimes have to pull her away because I think they're too scary."

"Maybe she just wants to follow in your footsteps."

"She's eleven. She can wait until she's seventeen to do that."

"Indeed," Mycroft said. He pulled out a file and placed it on the table between them. "I have another one for you."

There was always a sense of dread whenever Mycroft handed him a new file. He never gave over the easy cases; those were for less experienced foster parents.

Lestrade frowned at the unusual thickness of the file. He has always demanded full disclosure of a child. He wanted to know exactly what he was getting himself into, but the size of this file was downright ridiculous.

Mycroft said nothing.

 _Sherlock Adler,_ the name printed at the top. A photograph of the boy was stapled inside, accompanied with medical history, details of the original parents, and the history of past foster parents. Lestrade gave the photograph a quick look over- the boy had black curly hair, thin eyes and a small mouth- then he began investigating why the file was so big.

He could not believe it. "Seventeen foster homes in the past year?" He said breathless. " _Seventeen?"_

Mycroft nodded. "Sherlock Holmes, twelve years old. Put into foster care at the age of six when his mother overdosed on cocaine."

"Is he himself addicted?" Lestrade asked, looking through Sherlock's medical file. He wouldn't be the first drug-addicted child Lestrade took care of.

"No," Mycroft leaned over and turned a few pages of the file. He jabbed his finger in the middle of the page. "Cocaine is not the reason why Sherlock is passed around. Look here."

Lestrade read, "An IQ of… holy crap…"

"We've dealt with prodigy children before, but Sherlock is something much more," Mycroft continued. "He reads at a university level. He speaks as if he's the same age. Every single test our counselors have given him he has blown them out of the water. Sherlock is not a prodigy. He's a  _genius."_

"I don't understand. What does being a genius have to do with anything?"

Mycroft raised an eyebrow. Slowly, he said, "Well, imagine  _me_ , but without any restraint."

Lestrade blanched. "Good lord."

"Indeed. Sherlock has set pieces of furniture on fire. He likes to take apart electronics just to see how they work. He could easily put them back together if he wished, except as soon as he's done, he leaves it alone. He has been known to drug the family pets-"

"Has he killed any of these pets?" Lestrade asked warily. Killing animals was a bad sign and if Sherlock was known to kill or torture animals, Lestrade wasn't sure if he wanted that boy under his roof with his kids.

"No," Mycroft said. "He's only drugged the animals to give them a light buzz, nothing physically damaging, I assure you. If Sherlock was drugging these animals to kill them, I wouldn't be talking to you right now."

"I don't understand. Why  _are_  you talking to me, then? From the sounds of it, the only person who's qualified to take care of such a child is _you_."

"No," Mycroft said quickly. "I am the last person to take care of such a child. It's best I keep my distance."

Lestrade didn't know what that meant. Even if he asked, he knew he would not get an answer. "Alright, but that still doesn't answer my first question. Why me?"

Mycroft took a sip of his tea. "Because you thought I was the best man for the job," he said, shrugging like it was obvious.

**Author's Note:**

> Was suppose to be longer but only got this.


End file.
